


In the Shadow

by Silverfox



Series: Both or Neither Scenes [1]
Category: Saber Rider and the Star Sheriffs
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 18:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17105603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfox/pseuds/Silverfox
Summary: One of our monthly LTSH challenges asked for supporting characters so here's the old cook from the BON Universe thinking.





	In the Shadow

I'm a cook. That's all most of them know about me. To some of them I might be the cook, even. Not that I'm the only one - imagine feeding the whole base on your own! - but I am the head of the kitchen and I think some might know or guess that. They see me give orders, they probably notice how old I look.

They might not care. Few of them have ever spoken to me, not a single one has asked my name. They don't care who I am, or who my family are. If they do talk to me it is because they are discontent with their food, are looking for one of their friends or enemies or are running off with my food or dishes.

Not that I ever succeed in stopping them, or mind all that much where they eat, but I'm not allowed to run through every office, quarters and lab to retrieve missing cutlery. Some of them are private areas, others restricted and outright dangerous. Good gods! I hope they don't actually eat in the biological weapons lab!

But of course they don't care about such minor things as whether I still have sufficient cutlery left to provide for all of them tomorrow - until they're standing there with a soup bowl in their hand and I tell them I'm out of spoons. Then it is always my fault of course ...

But never mind those antics. I don't really mind them myself. I'm an old man and have been working in this, my kitchen, since I was twenty and fresh out of school. Back then I wasn't head cook of course, I was just a dishwasher. But I was here to see them come in to eat as I do today, I overheard snatches of their conversations as I do today. I know them, even if they don't know me. I have been here longer than most of them.

Oh, I do not remember all of their arrivals, of course, there are way too many of them to notice every last individual, but some stand out, some you just know are or will be more important then the rest.

I wonder what they'd say, if they knew all the tales I could tell about them - or their friends - or their enemies.

But then, I am just a cook and they never think to ask me to tell tales.


End file.
